Siheyuan: I just came across and wanted to chase me away

Gu Nan sat at his desk, the lamplight casting a deep shadow on his face. His fingertips tapped unconsciously on the smooth mahogany surface, making a soft "tap-tap" sound. His brows were furrowed, like old tree bark that hadn't been stretched in a long time. He knew perfectly well that Zhu Tao had been acting like a madman lately, finding fault at every turn: fire inspections of the warehouse were frequent, scrutinizing perfectly compliant accounts; several large orders he'd finally secured were snatched away at the last minute by competitors offering lower prices; even his old colleagues in the workshop were being bribed by Zhu Tao's people to spread rumors. If this continued, forget about gaining a foothold in the factory; he feared even his existing business—the precision instrument workshop he'd worked so hard to acquire over ten years—would be devoured completely by Zhu Tao and his gang, leaving not even a trace.

He couldn't just cower and take a beating forever. Gu Nan clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white. Even a rabbit will bite when cornered; when it's time to fight back, he had to show his claws and let Zhu Tao know that he, Gu Nan, wasn't a pushover who could be easily bullied.

Dealing with Zhu Tao is a given, but it can't be rushed. Zhu Tao has been in this industry for over twenty years, with deep roots and a group of seasoned veterans who rely on him for their livelihood. He also has a brother-in-law who's a deputy section chief in the bureau backing him up. We need a meticulous plan, to proceed step by step. One wrong move could have far-reaching consequences, and the whole situation could be ruined, leaving no chance for recovery.

He mentally scanned the people around him: Old Chen was loyal but too straightforward, unsuitable for underhanded tactics; Little Li was clever but too young and impatient… Finally, his gaze settled on Zhong Yi's name. This kid was an apprentice he had personally trained, from a greenhorn who couldn't even hold a wrench properly when he first entered the factory to a capable technician now—every step of the way, he had been taught by him step by step. He was quick-witted, understood things instantly, and was efficient. Most importantly—he was now working under Zhu Tao, a key pawn that Zhu Tao had specifically poached to use against him. Zhu Tao thought he had struck gold, unaware that this move had been part of Gu Nan's calculations all along.

Gu Nan picked up the enamel teacup on the table and took a sip of scalding hot water, the steam fogging his glasses. A calculating glint flashed in his eyes, like the cold light of a hunter eyeing its prey. Zhu Tao's men had been thoroughly disciplined by him lately under various pretexts: Old Wang, the warehouse manager, was scrutinized for three days over a discrepancy of a few cents in the ledgers, ultimately slinking off a long leave; Old Zhao, the salesman, had evidence of kickbacks found on him, and although he didn't expose it, he was too scared to get too close to Zhu Tao again. Now, those who could get close to Zhu Tao and take orders were few and far between—either cowardly and scheming, or harboring their own hidden agendas.

At this point, if Zhu Tao wants to continue dealing with him, he will inevitably rely more on Zhong Yi. After all, Zhong Yi came from Gu Nan's side and knows his connections and weaknesses best. Zhu Tao will inevitably have to ask him for information, discuss countermeasures, and even assign him some shady tasks.

This was exactly what he wanted. He needed to clip Zhu Tao's wings first, forcing him to focus solely on Zhong Yi, making Zhong Yi his only "eyes" and "claws." His apprentice would be in the open, running errands for Zhu Tao and uncovering his weaknesses; he himself would be in the shadows, using information from Zhong Yi to orchestrate events. With inside and outside cooperation, he wouldn't have trouble finding Zhu Tao's flaws—he simply didn't believe Zhu Tao's conscience was clear. The embezzled public funds, the resold scrap materials, the kickbacks he'd received over the years—any one of those things would be enough to cause him serious trouble.

Gu Nan put down his teacup, the bottom clinking against the table. A cold smile curled at the corner of his lips, his eyes behind his glasses gleaming with a triumphant light—Zhu Tao, you think you can rest easy just by bringing my apprentice over? You think you can laugh at me? Little do you know, that's just the seed I've planted for you. Sooner or later, it will expose all your dirty secrets. Then, it'll be too late to see who's crying.

The moonlight shone through the cracks in the window, casting a long, thin shadow on the ground, like a knife poised to strike.

Gu Nan leaned against the doorframe, his gaze fixed on the old sycamore tree in the courtyard. Ran Qiuye was playing with building blocks with her child. Moonlight filtered through the layers of leaves, scattering dappled light across the ground like scattered gold dust. The child's giggles were crisp and clear, like silver bells jingling in the wind. Ran Qiuye bent over, patiently helping the child steady the leaning blocks. Her cheeks were slightly flushed from the sun, a healthy pink, and a few strands of hair at her temples were damp with a thin layer of sweat, clinging to her skin. The scene was as warm as a painting bathed in moonlight, making one's heart soften.

When the child was playing so much that his eyelids were drooping, rubbing his eyes and yawning, nodding his little head, Gu Nan smiled and stepped forward to gently pick him up. The child snuggled into his arms, muttering something before his eyes narrowed. He turned and walked into the house, Ran Qiuye following behind, gently tidying up the scattered building blocks, her steps as light as a cat's, as if afraid of disturbing the little one in her arms.

Gu Nan placed the child in the small bed in the inner room, carefully tucking in the blankets, and then tiptoed out. He rolled up his sleeves and began tidying up the outer room—the bowls and chopsticks on the table were stacked together, carried into the kitchen, and poured into an enamel basin, splashing a few drops of water; the child's scattered rattles and small balls were gathered into a bamboo basket and placed in the corner; Ran Qiuye's clothes, hanging on the line, were taken down, still smelling of sunshine, and neatly folded and placed on the wooden box beside the kang (heated brick bed). The room gradually became tidy, with only the old grandfather clock in the corner ticking softly, as if counting the days.

He wiped his hands on a towel, glanced back into the room, and saw that Ran Qiuye had fallen asleep by the bedside. Perhaps she was exhausted from taking care of the child; her face was turned to the side, her breathing even, her brows slightly furrowed, as if she were having a light dream, her long eyelashes casting a small shadow under her eyelids.

Gu Nan moved a rattan chair to the table, pulled out a worn-out notebook from his pocket, and flipped through it in the daylight streaming in from the window. The pages detailed Zhu Tao's activities over the past few days, from several unclear accounting discrepancies in the workshop to his close relationships with various individuals, even down to the fact that he had secretly smuggled a batch of scrap material out of the factory last month. He drew a heavy line under the name "Zhu Tao," the ink almost seeping through the paper, his eyes darkening—the preparations were almost complete. The next step was to seize the most crucial evidence and deliver a fatal blow to Zhu Tao, ensuring he could no longer cause trouble in the factory and harm more people.

Just as he was pondering this, a slight noise came from the inner room. Gu Nan looked up and saw Ran Qiuye rubbing her eyes as she came out, clearly having been startled awake. She saw Gu Nan looking at his notebook, but didn't ask anything. She simply came over and poured him a glass of warm water, the glass condensing into fine droplets. She said softly, "Don't stay up too late. You'll ruin your health. Everything has to be done slowly."